


Volunteer Work

by FantasyRyder



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Dark Hannibal Lecter, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Professor Hannibal Lecter, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Student Will Graham, Young Will Graham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyRyder/pseuds/FantasyRyder
Summary: Hannibal Lecter chooses to volunteer at a boarding school to gain brownie points and a lower profile, but he didn't choose to take such an interest in one of the boys.





	1. Chapter 1

The teacher would be lying if he said he didn't take a particular interest in Will Graham. Hannibal was a professor, working at a university teaching medical students and volunteering at the boarding school a few blocks away. A selfless act, like watching after and teaching the neglected boys at the school, would be seen as positive, and given certain circumstances regarding Hannibal's other "endeavors", would sway opinions in his favor and direct possible scrutiny from him. Though, he would be lying if he said he didn't fantasize about quieting the rude children he begrudgingly chose to watch after.

One boy, with a similar rude disposition, sparked the aforementioned "interest" in the older man. The boy went by William Graham, but refused the formalities and preferred the shortened version of his name. A non-existent mother and absent minded father who thought it better to pay the tuition than watch after his son lead him to his current situation.

When Hannibal and Will's paths first crossed, Will had been transferred from another boarding school for reasons Hannibal didn't care to fill himself in on. The yells of one of the teachers (whom referred to Hannibal as a friend) echoed through the halls and led the curious killer to the source: the man preaching his frustrations, and a curly-haired boy who seemed both disinterested and regretful at once (the latter emotion most likely provoked by the new set of eyes on him) looking through him.

With a start, the man stopped and followed William's blue eyes to Hannibal's dominating form, his anger melting into recognition then friendliness. He reciprocated the man's reaction mechanically and shook his hand firmly, keeping his eyes on the boy behind him, currently attempting to fade into the background to rid himself of the scrutiny regarding his red-rimmed orbs.

Mr. Kennedy's smile faded for a millisecond before he turned towards the boy slightly, not allowing him direct regards or eye contact, and told him to go back into the classroom so the adults could talk.

With apprehension, Will's eye contact wavered as he opens the door he'd been standing in front of and entered the room, allowing the door to close on its own accord. There wasn't a peep from student or teacher when the door opened and as it closed.

Together, Hannibal and the teacher strolled through the quiet halls of the boarding school, speaking of professions and life. At last the conversation hit a point in which Hannibal could ask about what the young man had done. Per usual, the superior struggled with his reasoning for nearly half a minute, eventually convincing himself that Will had (unspecifically) disrespected him as he skimmed each class for evaluation.

Hannibal considered Kennedy incomparably rude and domineering, and psychoanalysis lead him to predictably understand that he'd most definitely chose to be a boarding school director for the purpose of demeaning those below him. 

While Hannibal had particular inclinations that compared to Kennedy's habits, it felt a little different when one animal did it to another, and Hannibal, by no means, was an animal. 

He reminded himself to take the teacher's death slow when the weather was favorable. 

/////////

Things continued as they normally would after the conflict between the teacher and Mr. Graham, who, after continued research, was set to turn eighteen in the upcoming month. For some reason, that fact sparked an unknown interest in Hannibal that even he couldn’t place the origins of.

Hannibal had offered to fill in for the school nurse one rainy afternoon, expecting nothing of importance to occur, but nearly the second lunch was over, he was greeted with a knock to the entrance of his temporary office. He granted them access with his words politely and looked up to see one of the only female teachers at the school leading the boy he saw weeks before into the room via a patient hand to his shoulder.

When William recognized that Hannibal was not the nurse he was familiar with, his eyes violently averted, nearly causing his head to snap aside on reflex.

“Will,” she corrected with a patient tone, “Ms. Thachet is visiting her grandchildren for the week? Remember? Please do not be impolite to Dr. Lecter.”

Will looked up at her widely and succumbed to her soothing tone, the position of his head showing of his long dark lashes. Hannibal remembered him wearing glasses when he first laid eyes upon him, and looked down to his hand, grasping at the pair, one lense cracked. When he looked back up, Will nodded and looked back at the killer now standing before him and his favorite teacher.

“I apologize for that. WIll doesn’t take well to orders but he thrives on patience. Excuse his rudeness.”

A simple brow twitch revealed Will’s mild offense to her statement, as no matter the kindness of the teachers, they all exhibited a superiority to the students.

“It is fine,” Hannibal smiled widely with a closed mouth, looking her in the eyes before glancing down into WIll’s, “I did not come here planning to rehabilitate. I have come to help.”

Will considered Hannibal’s statement off-putting, especially as the part Will himself thought he would like to hear was directed to him specifically.

“Well good,” she spoke gratefully, clasped her hands together, “thank you for your courtesy, doctor,” and looked to the boy briefly, “and I will see you tomorrow, William.”

As she left, Will opened his mouth to correct her but let her leave him with a man he didn’t trust,

The second the door closed, Hannibal spoke clearly, “Please sit on the table”.

Will did as told non too hastily and watched the man slide the rubber gloves onto his large hands, white latex stretching over long, nimble fingers fittingly.

“I see the wounds on your face, is there anything else you need me to treat that is not visible?”

The boy jerked at Hannibal’s tone, having been almost hypnotized by the movement of the doctor’s phillanges. “My… torso”.

Hannibal smiled to himself as he faced away to grab at the ointment and bandages in the cabinet above the sink as he’d noticed WIll grasp for medical terminology. Whether Will aimed to impress or assert dominance was the main question raised in the doctors mind. “And would you consider it too prodding if I were to ask of their origin?”, he said, applying hydrogen peroxide to a rather nasty gash on the boy’s cheekbone.

Will’s eyes flickered around for something to focus on that was not the doctor’s face, though such an action was difficult when his countenance took up eighty percent of his sight. “No, sir. I’ve managed to offend a group of boys I’ve been assigned to sleep with at night”.

“You speak as though this is insignificant? Have you not filed a complaint with the headmaster or vice?”. Vice was Mr. Kennedy, a man who, Hannibal suddenly remembered, did not exactly like Mr. Graham. Hannibal resolved to fetch a needle and thread and gently stitched the wound shut, ignoring the winces similarly to William attempting to stifle them.

“Mr. Kennedy and Mr. McMullen have taken a shine to that specific group, sir. My complaints were left unheard and I’ve accepted that,” he spoke slowly, looking down to the bloodied knuckles of his right hand numbly when Hannibal snipped the thread. Hannibal’s eyes met what Will was looking at.

“Then you will surely be punished for fighting back.”

“Exactly,” he sighed out, not in defeat but in bitter acceptance. That tone was not a boy who planned on lying in submission, and Hannibal respected that, allowing a genuine simile to stretch across his sharp features.

“That is a shame, “ Hannibal spoke, finalizing the topic and placing the a band-aid against the last minor scratch on Will’s forehead. “Please remove your uniform so I can decide what is to be done of your ‘torso’.”

For the first time, Will smiled in Hannibal’s presence, revealing deep dimples which cut against his cheeks. Hannibal was pleased with how they looked as well as the general appearance of the student. Given the opportunity, he’d gladly add a drawing of Will in his current, beaten state to his collection of architectural designs of his childhood and brutal art he takes part in in the present. 

Will rid himself of his jacket, took off his tie, unbuttoned the crisp dress shirt, and pulled the t-shirt below it over his head to finally reveal the yellow and purple bruises that only blanketed the left side of his ribcage.

As delicately he could manage with his rubber gloves, Hannibal stroked over the blotches with his lips pressed in a thin, disgruntled line. “You will need to wait for these to pass, I'm afraid…”

Will nodded in affirmation.

“Did you do anything to provoke them?”, Hannibal asked, removing his gloves and handing him the clothes as Will redressed.

“Not exactly.”

“That leaves room for interpretation.”

“They provoked me first… I began returning the favor.”

“You will need to be more careful.”

Will glanced away in defeat.

“But do not mistake care for compliance.”

Will's eyes meet his expectantly, amusement in them. “You're a weird doctor.”

“Go to class, William.” Hannibal spoke with a polite smile.


	2. Chapter 2

The day following Hannibal and Will's afternoon together comprised of Hannibal filling in the nurse's position and skimming the halls in the idle time between each period, subtly searching for the boy he'd met. He decided Will was much too interesting to forget about after their dialogue and hoped that he wasn't expelled for his misdemeanor. A puff of relieved breath left his mouth when his gaze rested on the alienated form.

Around him, other boys talked in their cliques and sped walked to their next class. In contrast, Will was alone, an obvious halo of his fellow classmates around him but not exceeding a meter or so, not that William visibly cared. Judging by the black eye (that Hannibal treated shortly after Will left that day) and athletic forms, Hannibal found the group of boys Will offended across the hall. They mumbled amongst themselves with a shared stare that Hannibal decided did not need to be analyzed, their feelings clear.

After a minute passed, Will finally began his trek to a class Hannibal was not filled in on, so he casually joined the boy's side.

“Do you have yet to make acquaintances at this new school?” The tone of the doctor was pleasant and sentence un-accusatory so the boy would be less likely to be offended. A silence wafted over the two before Will spoke, clearly testing how far Hannibal's patience went.

“If I wanted therapy, I'd talk to the counselor…”

Hannibal was surprised by Will's deflection. “This is not therapy, Will. This is conversation.”

“That's what all of them say.” Will looks up to him with a brief, bitter smile, tone dripping with self-aware malice.

“Your history has required you have therapy in the past?”

Will visibly grew uncomfortable but rationalized that the best way to avoid awkwardness was complying to Hannibal’s temporary demands to be talked to. “Yes,” he sighed out.

“For similar reasons?”

“No. I’m not a violent person,” Will grit out with a clear tone, obviously taking offense to the inquiry. 

Hannibal suddenly realized why he gravitated to the boy. “And the implication angers you, why?

“Because…,” he took in a few measured breaths as he stared ahead, remembering beating Devin Chamber’s face in; he looked terrified, as it felt as though he could see his own countenance as he beat down on himself. “because violence is… ugly,” he breathed, finalizing his thought.

Hannibal felt the opposite but smiled a little and nodded to himself.

“You disagree with that, don’t you, doctor?”

He looked to Will at his bluntness, “I feel, if anything, it is necessary.”

Will’s eyes were large and blue, making him look more innocent than Hannibal assumed he was. They looked up to him judgmentally, like he knew Hannibal was different than the other older figures in his life. Hannibal cursed at himself mentally for neglecting to build a thicker wall at the boarding school, but he didn’t exactly expect an empath of sorts to be among the troubled boys. He regretfully wondered if Will would need to go missing.

“I guess…”

“You guess? They made the first move, correct?”

Will nodded, eyes fallen downcast after his response.

“What did they do to you?”

“Just… words. I-I don’t know anymore. It’s stupid.”

“Words to begin with? Then it escalated?”

“Yes.”

“Than the violence was necessary. Are the staff convincing you otherwise?”

“The faculty doesn’t really have anything to say about the matter.”

“Than you’re convincing yourself.”

Will nodded again.

“Did beating him make you feel that powerful?”

Will’s movements stutter when his head shoots up to look up at Hannibal in surprise at how blunt he was. “Yes,” he answered without thought.

It was Hannibal’s turn to look away and allow Will to be alone with his self-reflection.

The boy’s developed Adam's apple bobbed as he looked down at the tiles passing below his shoes. “Is that… bad?”

“In regards to boys like Devin, no. If it helps, I would recommend you feel the power in moderation, and act when circumstances are in your favor.”

Will’s mouth was slightly agape, bringing attention to the pouty lips Hannibal fought with himself to avoid staring at. Surprisingly, he didn’t question the substitute’s morals, but rather something else, “Would you consider it bad to… want to feel that power over Mr. Kennedy?”

“Will,” Hannibal sighed in feigned exacerbation, “would you say Kennedy deserves that?”

He swallowed. Hannibal noticed his pink tongue slipping between his lips to wet them before looking down and nodding his head no. The current school nurse’s brows furrow ever so slightly, picking up on insincerity and a lack of truth coming from the boy, but he didn’t prod further, Will was too wound tight and would shut down permanently if Hannibal continued poking at him.

“This is my stop, sir, have a good day.”

Hannibal’s gaze rose to the door behind the student and nodded with a polite smile. “Don’t let me keep you.”

With that, Will nodded, eyes looking away and unseeing with thought as he entered the classroom without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two. Trying my hardest to commit. :-) Thank you all for reading!


End file.
